About ten minutes later we finally came upon the clearing on a rocky ledge above the lake where we’d be camping that night. Each bunk was given thirty minutes to set up their tent and lay out their sleeping bags inside. I’d been worried that it would take longer than that to set up, but actually, with all eight of us working together, setting up the tent was a breeze. It made me realize what a great team the eight of us had become, and that made me smile.
Once our bags and sleeping bags were laid out inside, we headed over to where Deborah and Miles were setting up a campfire. While Miles used a flint to get the campfire started—a cool trick he’d tried to teach the campers—Deborah asked the counselors to line up the insulated bags of food we’d brought. I plunked down the bag I’d gotten from the mess hall, which included hot dogs, buns, potatoes for roasting, and apples. Soon each of the kids was holding a hot dog on a pointy stick over the roaring campfire, and we’d all wrapped potatoes in aluminum foil to roast in the fire.
I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I began to smell the hot dogs cooking, and then my stomach rumbled angrily.
“Hungry much?” George asked, sidling up beside me.
I smiled. “I guess so,” I admitted. “Things were still so crazy at lunch, I don’t think I ate a lot.”
I’d filled George and Bess in on the Bella incident during free period.
George patted my back. “Don’t feel bad about it, Nance. You got a crazy person out of here! You saved the campout! Look at all these happy faces that would have been sad, watching another DVD in the mess hall or something.”
I looked around at the happy campers, trying to feel the truth in George’s words. But something just wasn’t sitting right.
“What if she didn’t do it?” I asked.
George turned to me, her eyes flashing. “Nancy, come on. You can’t be serious. Bella was acting weird since the moment we all got to camp.”
I sighed. “On the hike up here, I was noticing how many people wear Chuck Taylors,” I said. “Sam has them. Maddie too. Deborah even has a pair. What if I—”
“Don’t doubt yourself,” George insisted. “Except about your hot dog, because that thing is about to burn to a crisp. Come on, put her there.”
George picked up a paper plate with a bun on it and held it out to me. I pulled my hot dog in from the fire—it did look a bit well-done, now that I inspected it—and dropped it on the bun. George handed me the plate, then gestured to a row of condiments that had been set up by a tree.
“You had plenty of reasons to blame Bella. Maybe one or two of them could be explained in other ways—but all of them? No. So eat something,” she encouraged me. “Enjoy yourself! You solved the case! Now you can relax and enjoy a freshly roasted hot dog with a stellar view.”
I nodded, slathering my hot dog with mustard and ketchup and moving over to where my bunk had gathered on an overturned log. Soon the happy chatter and jokes of my campers took my mind off Bella, and any of the other crazy events of the week. George is right, I thought as I enjoyed my dinner. The hard part is over—now I can enjoy the little time I have left! The sun setting over the lake was beautiful. And it was hard to ignore what a good time all the campers seemed to be having. They really would have been disappointed if this had been called off, I realized.
But the night wasn’t going to be totally perfect. We’d just finished up our dinner and started roasting marshmallows for s’mores when the sky suddenly darkened, and a huge crash of thunder sounded.
I looked to Deborah, who turned to the sky just as the heavens seemed to open up and rain came pouring down in a gush.
“Auuuuughhh!” half the campers screamed.
“Everyone run to your tents!” Deborah shouted. “Take cover! I’ll put out the fire!”
“You heard her, guys! Come on!” I corralled my campers into a clump and navigated them back toward our tent. Once we got the zippered flap open, we all tumbled in with a groan and scooted over to our respective sleeping bags.
“I can’t believe it,” Maya said, shaking her head. “Was it even supposed to rain tonight?”
“Who knows?” I asked with a shrug. “I haven’t seen a weather report in a week.”
For a few minutes, we just sat in the darkness listening to the rain pounding the roof. The tent seemed to be waterproof, thank goodness, so except for a few small puddles where there were leaks, we stayed dry.
After a few minutes we brought out our flashlights and made a circle in the middle of the tent. Thunder was still crashing every few minutes outside, and lightning would light up the sky.
“It’s so cool,” Cece whispered. “Like nature is having a big argument.”
Harper bit her lips. “I think it’s a little scary,” she whispered.
Maya scooched over and put her arm around Harper. “Don’t be scared,” she said. “We’re all here together, and nothing’s going to hurt us. We should enjoy the show!”
“We should tell ghost stories!” Kiki said suddenly, and several of the girls spoke up to agree.
I glanced at Harper. “Maybe we’re not all in the mood for ghost stories,” I suggested. “Actually, I brought a deck of cards. We could play—”
Harper shook her head and sat up straight. “No, Kiki’s right,” she said. “The atmosphere is perfect for ghost stories.”
Kiki beamed. I glanced at Maya, who shrugged.
“Okay?” I said. “Are we all sure, though?”
All the girls grunted their assent. When I looked Harper right in the eye, she nodded.
“Okay,” I said finally. “Who wants to start?”
“I do!” Nina raised her hand. “This is a ghost story I heard here, actually. It’s perfect because it’s about this camp.”
I sat stock-still as Nina began telling the others about the last year Camp Larksong was in business. How everyone went on the end-of-year campout, right here, at Hemlock Hill. But one of the counselors was acting a little weird. . . .
“Guys!” I said, holding up my hand. “Hold it right there, Nina. I just want you all to know . . . this story isn’t true. Okay?”
Nina looked at me, slightly annoyed. “How do you know that?” she asked.
“Because I know,” I said, hearing that I sounded like a frustrated parent, but not sure how to avoid it. “I . . . looked into it. None of this is true, guys.”
I’d expected that to dampen the campers’ enthusiasm for the tale, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Fourteen eyes widened as seven faces turned curiously in my direction.
“You looked into it?” Katie echoed. “That sounds kind of serious.”
I shook my head, but Cece was already chiming in, “Yeah, I thought this was just a made-up story! But if Nancy heard it and did some research, there must be some truth to it, right?”
The girls’ voices all began to drown one another out, and I looked desperately at Maya. But even as I did, I realized that she didn’t know the whole story either. I’d given her a brief synopsis of Bella’s tale the night she arrived at camp, and told her it wasn’t true. But she didn’t know that I’d found out what really happened to Lila. She didn’t know that someone actually had nearly drowned on this night five years before—but it was an accident.
“So what happened?” Winnie asked eagerly, clutching the stuffed wiener dog she slept with each night to her chest. Her face was bright with anticipation and a little bit of fear. “Did someone die?”
Nina turned to Winnie, her eyes sparkling. “In the middle of the night, when everyone was sleeping, the counselor took one of the campers outside,” she said, “led her down to the lake, and . . . drowned her!”
Winnie was the first to scream, and then suddenly the whole tent was enveloped with shrieks.
“Guys!” Maya cried, pushing her hands down through the air in a calm down gesture. “Come on, guys. It’s just a story. Right, Nancy?”
“It . . .” I was about to confirm this when I suddenly caught sight of Harper. She’d been sittin
g behind Kiki, who was waving around dramatically, so I didn’t see until then how utterly terrified she looked. Her skin was as pale as marble, and her eyes appeared glassy. She was trembling hard enough that I could see it from several yards away.
Suddenly we heard footsteps outside the tent and the hatch was unzipped. This sent the girls into another round of screaming, all except Harper, who sat utterly still. A flashlight beam shone in, at first obscuring the person behind it, but then Sam came into focus.
“Everything all right in here?” she asked. The rain was still lashing down outside, and Sam was getting soaked. I felt terrible for letting my bunk get so excited and disturbing her. “We heard you guys way on the other side of the clearing. George says you’re freaking out the little ones.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I said, trying to stand in the cramped tent. “The girls were telling ghost stories, and it got a little out of hand.”
Sam raised her eyebrows. “Ghost stories are fun, but maybe you girls should move on to bedtime-y stories,” she suggested. “It’s getting pretty late. The little ones were already trying to sleep, and we’re bedding down soon.”
“Good idea,” I agreed.
Sam nodded, smiled, and backed out of the tent. She zipped up the flap behind her.
Suddenly Maya spoke. “Hey, Harper,” she said, reaching over to place a gentle hand on Harper’s arm, “did you bring your book? Maybe you could read us another chapter.”
“Yeah!” cried Cece, bouncing up and down.
“Another chapter, another chapter!” the other girls began to chant.
Harper still looked a bit dazed, but she shook her head, as if to snap herself out of it. “Sure,” she said quietly after a few seconds. “Let me just get it from my backpack.”
She did, and Maya handed her the powerful flashlight she’d brought to use as a reading light.
Soon Harper took us all to a fantasyland where unicorns kept the peace, dreams were used as currency, and a friendly dragon gave advice to humans. Harper’s soft voice against the pelting rain made for a super-soothing story. We all climbed into our sleeping bags, and even I felt my eyes drooping.
When Harper reached the end, she said, “That’s the end of that chapter,” closed the book, and put it by her pillow. Then she settled into her own sleeping bag. She looked much calmer than she had during Nina’s story.
“Good night, everyone,” I called, snuggling down. About half of the girls were asleep already, but the rest called, “Good night,” and in what couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, I was fast asleep.
A silver-haired girl moved soundlessly through the forest, slipping through the trees like a breeze. She looked behind her nervously, like she feared she was being followed. Then she moved into the clearing, which opened out onto a black, mirror-smooth lake.
An owl hooted as she ran to the beach and silently slipped into the water. The cool water enveloped her quickly, but she had no problem staying afloat, or seeing in the bright moonlight. A single silver beam cut through the water, illuminating something on the black lake bottom. A shining pearl ring.
The girl’s eyes widened and she dived down to retrieve it. It slid easily into her hand, and for a moment she just stared at it, the pearl reflecting in her velvety black eyes. She smiled, relieved. Then, just as she cupped the ring in her hand and lifted herself in the water to swim back to the surface . . .
Something grabbed her around the neck. It was dark, a creature made of shadow and fangs, and it pulled her toward it, screaming. Alarm flashed in her eyes; she knew she was going to die. The ring fell from her hand. . . .
And I woke, my heart pounding a mile a minute.
“Nancy! Help!”
I gasped, terrified, trying to make sense of the darkness around me. Oh, right. I was in a tent with my bunk. It was the end-of-year campout. I must have just been having another nightmare. I tried to breathe in, to calm the hammering in my chest. I guess that ghost story affected me more than I thought. . . .
Then I remembered: Someone was calling for my help! Or were they? I listened hard but heard only silence. Even the rain had stopped.
Was I just hearing things?
I reached for the small flashlight by my bed and turned it on. I flashed the weak beam around the tent, counting each sleeping head: Maya, Kiki, Cece, Winnie, Katie, Nina . . .
And one empty sleeping bag.
I leaped up, angling to get a better look. Harper’s book still lay by her pillow, but the sleeping bag was rumpled and unzipped, as though she had recently left. I sat up, trying to quiet the clenching feeling in my stomach. She probably just got up to use the bathroom. It was raining and we didn’t go before bed.
Now the woods were silent. The rain seemed to have stopped.
As quietly as I could, I slid out of my sleeping bag and crept out of the tent. I briefly considered grabbing Maya’s higher-powered flashlight, but then decided against it. I’m only going to be a minute. She’s probably right on the edge of the woods, using the latrine we dug.
Outside the tent, the clouds had parted to reveal the moon, which was only a razor-sharp-looking crescent. I breathed in the cool night air and felt a bit better. Nothing to worry about.
I shone my flashlight on the narrow path that led away from the tents and into the woods. The latrine was just a few yards beyond the first trees. As I got closer, I heard human-sounding noises and felt a rush of relief wash over me. She’s just using the bathroom. No big deal.
I moved closer. “Harper?” I called, shining the flashlight toward the tree we’d dug the latrine behind. “Are you okay?”
“Hey!”
A voice that was decidedly not Harper’s cried out in alarm. “A little privacy, maybe? I’m not Harper! Sheesh!”
In my surprise, I couldn’t place the voice at first. But then it came to me. It was Janie, Bess’s CIT—aka Mini-George.
I backed away, feeling my cheeks burn. “Sorry about that! Sorry!” I stumbled back along the path to the cluster of tents in the clearing.
But if that isn’t Harper . . . where is she?
I was trying to quiet the fear that seemed to fill my veins with ice when I heard the voice again.
“Help me, Nancy! Please!”
It was undoubtedly Harper. And it was coming from a narrow path that led up the hill, farther into the woods.
I felt my heart speed up as I moved toward the path. I shone my weak flashlight beam ahead, but it barely penetrated the inky-black darkness. Just like in my dream, I thought.
And just when I thought I couldn’t be any more afraid, a hand reached out and grabbed me from behind.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A Deadly Plan
BEFORE I COULD SCREAM, THE figure that had grabbed me spoke. “Nancy, what are you doing?”
I shone my flashlight beam at it and nearly collapsed with relief. “Bess!”
She pushed a thick lock of blond hair behind her ear, still frowning. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Why are you out here?”
“Because I’m missing a camper,” I replied. “And—”
“You too?” Bess’s eyes widened. “I’m missing Janie, and—”
“I found Janie,” I replied. “She’s using the latrine and doesn’t want to be bothered. But Harper—”
“It’s not just Janie,” Bess said quickly. “Though that’s a relief, that she’s okay. I’m missing Olivia, too.”
Olivia. I pictured the tiny girl with dark braids who liked to follow Bess around like a starstruck duckling.
“She’d never wander out on her own,” Bess went on in a rush. “She’s not the type. So I’m worried—”
“Help me please! Pl—mmmmph!”
My head swung around in the direction of the path. This time it sounded like Harper’s voice had been muffled, like someone had pressed a hand over her mouth.
“I was about to tell you,” I said quickly to Bess. “It’s coming from this path . . .” I shone the light up the path,
just barely illuminating any of the darkness.
“Great,” Bess said, shining the flashlight from her smartphone in the same direction. “Let’s go.”
But as much as I wanted Bess’s company, I knew she could be more help here. “No, you stay here and wake Deborah and Miles,” I hissed. “Then the three of you follow up this path as soon as you can. Okay? I don’t have a good feeling about this.” I swallowed hard. “I’m afraid I was wrong about Bella,” I added, and then, when Bess nodded, started up the path.
My flashlight barely illuminated more than two feet in front of me, and the tiny sliver of moon wasn’t much help. The path was steep and rocky, and I mentally scolded myself for stupidly passing on Maya’s brighter flashlight. But it was too late now.
I followed the path up and around a steep bend, from which I could look down at the clearing filled with tents below. I could see light coming from Deborah and Miles’s tent. Bess must be telling them.
I shone the flashlight ahead and kept going.
Now I was almost hoping to hear another cry for help. It would tell me that Harper was still okay and clue me in to her location. But only the soft chorus of bugs and frogs greeted me as I wound along the path, and the occasional deep hoot of an owl.
Are they okay? Does that mean they’re not okay?
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been walking. Ten minutes? Fifteen? I’d rounded the hill, and the path was now taking a slow descent back toward the lake. My chest tightened as I looked at the black, glossy surface of the water, remembering my dream.
If whoever’s behind this is the same person who’s been sabotaging the camp . . . and they’re obsessed with what happened to Lila . . .
I had to stop myself from finishing the thought.
Harper is a good swimmer, I reminded myself instead.
I just hoped the same could be said for poor little Olivia.
There was only silence on the path behind me, and I wondered what had happened to Bess, Miles, and Deborah. Weren’t they coming? Surely they would come help, right?